Coming to Jesus
by alynwa
Summary: The continuation of Season Six. Alan, Denny, Carl and Shirley are beginning to realize and accept some truths about their respective relationships.
1. Chapter 1

Denny was sitting in the den late morning reading the Friday "G" section of the Boston Globe to see what was happening that weekend. It had been five days since Alan had been diagnosed with mono and although he did feel better, he was still under doctor's orders to get as much bed rest as possible so Denny was thinking he would go out for a few hours alone. Alan was starting to chafe under the restrictions and he had snapped at Denny once or twice. He was immediately sorry and apologized to Denny profusely, but Denny decided a little time apart would do them both some good. _I have been hovering, _he thought. _Besides, the nurse is here; I'll just ask her to stay awhile longer._

After a bit of a rough start, the nurse that Denny had hired had reached a truce with her stubborn patient. She arrived each morning promptly at ten. She would check his vital signs (more for Denny's peace of mind than anything else) and then bathe him in bed. Alan had thought he would like that part until he met Mrs. McDougal. Denny laughed himself silly when Alan had complained to him, "She's eighty if she's a day! Can't I at least have a sexy little number of a nurse?"

"Of course not!" Denny had replied, "You're supposed to be getting better, not getting it on! No one is getting turned on in our bed!"

They had looked at each other for a few seconds before bursting into raucous guffaws. "Our marital bed sounds like a very sad and miserable place!" Alan had gasped out. "Oh! My sides! Don't make me laugh anymore! I'm not, haha, I'm not a well man!"

Denny had wiped tears of laughter from his eyes before reaching out to ruffle the hair and pat the face of his best friend. "You're not one hundred percent yet, but you are getting better every day. Soon, very soon, you'll be your old self again."

He smiled at the memory. Some of the best times of his life had been spent with that man upstairs who was now his husband. _If anything ever happened to him…_Denny stopped himself from continuing that thought. _That is exactly the reason why you have an appointment with a shrink Monday, Crane! I guess it really wouldn't hurt to go, but I don't like it._

His cell phone rang just then and he smiled when he saw who it was. "Shirley! This is an unexpected surprise; what's up?"

"I was calling to find out how Alan's feeling."

"Oh. Much better; he still has to stay in bed another week so he's champing at the bit to get the week behind him. I was thinking of doing something this weekend without him. You know, get some space between us. He claims I'm acting like a helicopter."

"What does that even mean?"

"He said that what kids nowadays call parents who constantly hover around to make sure their kids are okay. Truth be told, I _have_ been checking on him every hour lately."

"I thought you said he was feeling better?"

Denny sighed, "He is. I'm the one who's worrying himself to death. I guess I can tell you, Shirley. The reason I wanted your therapist's name is because Alan insisted I talk to someone about my…_concerns_ regarding his health. I made an appointment to see the guy Monday."

She was silent for a few seconds and then asked, "What time is your appointment?"

"One."

"Would you mind if I came to visit Alan while you're at your appointment? I mean, if it's okay with him, too."

Denny grunted. "Are you bringing Carl?"

"Not this time."

Denny smirked, "Still can't trust yourself around me, eh, Shirley? Is that why you want to visit Alan while I'm not here?"

"No, I want to discuss something with Alan and as for Carl, he'll be at work. Oh, I didn't tell you! I gave notice to the Chinese. Yesterday was my last day. I am gainfully unemployed for the time being."

"Good for you! If you're flying solo, would you like to hang out this weekend? Maybe, see a play or a movie?"

"Thanks for asking, Denny, but no, you're on your own this weekend. Are you going to have Alan call me?"

"No, I'll send you a text. I'm sure it will be fine. Shirley?"

"Yes?"

"Are you alright? You sound…down."

"I'm fine. It just feels weird not having to get up in the morning after so many years."

"I understand. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, Denny."

Denny put his phone down and resumed perusing the paper. There were art exhibits, lectures, new restaurants opening, but nothing was moving him. _Face it, Crane, all of these things that look like they'd be interesting or fun to do you want to do with Alan! _Rodeo entered the room just then to say, "Mrs. McDougal is ready to leave. Did you have anything you wanted to say to her?"

"Yes." He followed his house manager to the front hall where the nurse was putting on her coat. "How's our patient?"

"Ah, he's a fresh one, he is," she answered in a thick brogue, "he asked me if I wanted to remove me blouse while I bathed him! Said he has a soft spot for older women."

Denny laughed. "That's my Alan!" He leered at her. "Did you do it?"

The woman shrieked, "Oh, Mr. Crane! You're as bad as he is, you are! Do ye need me to come in this weekend?"

Denny thought about it and replied, "No, we'll be fine, but can you stay around for two or three hours more on Monday? I have an appointment and I'll be gone from around ten till four."

"Sure, Mister Crane, I can stay if you want."

"Perfect. Have a great day, Mrs. McDougal."

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When Shirley had hung up from Denny, she had almost called Carl, but remembered at the last moment that he was due in court. Things had been awkward since last night when he had told her how frustrated he felt. _He kissed me goodnight, but then he put his back to me. And when he left for work this morning, he did kiss me goodbye, but it felt like he was just going through the motions. He said maybe we're in trouble, but there's no maybe about it. We're in trouble._


	2. Chapter 2

"Counselor Sack! Are we boring you?" Judge Brown was glaring down at Carl. "Well?"

Carl, who had zoned out thinking about Shirley, stood up and sputtered, "My apologies, Your Honor. My mind…went somewhere else."

"So we _are _boring you? Is your client's case so airtight you feel there's no need to present it?"

"No, Your Honor, these proceedings are not boring. Well," he amended, "maybe a little."

_Thwack! _Judge Brown pounded his gavel. "This is outrageous! Fortunately for you, Sir, opposing counsel had just requested that we adjourn until Tuesday. I was asking you if you had any objections."

"Oh. No, Your Honor, Tuesday is fine. Mr. Chin, who is the lead counsel on this case, will be well enough by then."

Judge Brown rolled his eyes. "I don't care, Counselor. Whoever is sitting at that table Tuesday morning had better be ready to give this case all the attention it deserves."

Carl hung his head. "Of course, Your Honor."

The judge sat back in his chair and announced, "We will reconvene Tuesday at ten. Court is adjourned."

The bailiff ordered, "All rise" and the judge stalked off the bench and out of the room.

Carl sat down and began to gather his papers. As the room emptied out, opposing counsel, a man he was acquainted with, stepped over to him and said, "You know, as crazy as Brown is, and he is _nuts, _he still expects lawyers in his courtroom to pay attention. Are you alright, Carl? You look like you could use a sympathetic ear."

Carl looked at the lawyer, Cabot Wellington IV, and shook his head. "No, I'm not really alright and if you're free for the next seven or eight months,_ I_ have a tale to tell _you._"

Cabot laughed and hitched one haunch onto the table. Cabot was unassuming even though his name pretentiously spoke of a moneyed background. He was fifty – three years old (but looked much older), five feet ten inches tall to Carl's six feet four inches with a head of thick salt and pepper hair whose hairline had starting marching to the back of his skull. He had been married to his high school sweetheart, but had lost her cruelly to pancreatic cancer about four years earlier. "Well, I don't have months, but I have a couple of hours after work. Tell you what: Why don't we meet for drinks later? There's a place not too far from here called Marceau's. You know it?"

"Yep, I do, indeed."

"Good. Say…six o'clock?"

"Sure, why not." Carl finished putting his papers in his briefcase and stood in preparation to leave. He put on his coat and the two men walked out together. "I'll see you later."

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Carl actually arrived at Marceau's a little before six and took a seat at the bar to wait for Cabot. He automatically pulled his phone from his inside jacket pocket and placed it on the bar. "Scotch and soda," he said when the bartender looked his way. When his drink arrived, he took a sip, put it down and picked up his phone to send Shirley a text. _Decided to stop for drinks. C U later. _He pressed "Send" and watched the line across the top of the screen go from left to right followed by the "whooshing" sound his phone made when a text was sent successfully.

Cabot slid onto the barstool next to him. "Give me the Bass Ale on tap," he called to the bartender. When he got it, he raised his glass and tapped it against Carl's. "To Fridays: They don't come around fast enough." The two men took strong pulls from their glasses. "All right, my friend, what has you so distracted?"

He didn't know why; maybe it was the fact that Cabot, though not a close friend, seemed genuinely interested, but whatever it was, Carl found himself pouring all his frustration, annoyance and anger that he was feeling toward his wife into the other man's ear. As his conversation became more personal, Cabot suggested they move to a booth for more privacy. Once there, the talk and the drinks flowed easily.

Cabot had proved to be a very good listener. He was mostly silent, but asked just enough questions to encourage Carl to keep talking. When it seemed finally that Carl was winding down, Cabot commented, "So, it sounds like you are really angry with Shirley for essentially making plans for both of you without consulting you. What you need to ask yourself now is: _How_ angry are you? Is this a deal breaker or is this something you think you can resolve?"

Carl stared at the man. "Deal breaker? As in _divorce?" _He sighed and allowed his shoulders to droop. "Honestly, I haven't thought that far."

Cabot checked his watch, drained his glass and pulled out his wallet. "I know I'm a few years younger than you, but I've had an experience you have not. I'm a widower, you know that. Before Celia was diagnosed, we had been arguing a lot about nonsense though it didn't seem like nonsense at the time. I guess when you've been with someone as long as I had been with her, there comes a point in time where you're just on each other's nerves. Things I had always done, or not done, began to annoy her and vice – versa. Truth be told, I was even considering an affair. You know, to find out what I had been missing."

"Did you?"

"No. I had actually made a date with a woman I had met about a week earlier. I called Celia and was about to tell her I was going to be working late when she broke down on the phone and said she had gotten horrible news from her doctor and I had to come home. When I got home and she told me she had cancer, the realization of how much I loved her hit me like a speeding train." He cleared his throat and threw some bills on the table. "My treat. All I'm saying to you, Carl, is that if you truly love your wife, this is just a bump in the road. It's bullshit designed to make you take your eyes off the prize. Deal with it." He stood up and put on his coat. "I would do anything to have my Celia back whole and healthy. She could have won every argument every time if I had known my time with her was coming to an end. I would have enjoyed her." He picked up his briefcase. "And you know what? I never spoke to that other woman again. I don't even remember her name. Goodnight, Carl. Take it easy."

Carl watched Cabot leave and ordered one more drink and thought about what the man had said. He sat there a good while nursing his last scotch and soda. He pulled his phone and was surprised to see that it said nine forty – five. He sent a text to Shirley. _Getting a cab. Will be home soon. _Just before he pressed "Send," he added _Love, Carl._

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An hour later found Carl and Shirley lying in bed. Carl had come home to find her sitting in the kitchen with a glass of white wine reading a magazine. She had looked up at the sound of his key in the door and smiled when he walked inside. "So," she asked, "how was your evening?"

"Enlightening. I was with Cabot Wellington and we had a…great conversation. I want you to know, Shirley, that I may be angry with you right now and I don't know how long that's going to last, but I do love you. Very much so."

"I love you, too."

They had gone upstairs then, together, to get ready for bed. As he felt himself drifting off to sleep, Carl thought, _It's just a bump in the road, just a bump in the road. But it is one helluva _big _bump._


	3. Chapter 3

Sunday mornings at the Crane household were normally among Alan's favorite times of day. Usually, he and Denny would sleep in until Rodeo knocked on the bedroom door with a carafe of hot coffee and buttered English muffins along with the newspaper. Then they would lie in bed reading the paper and sipping coffee until their appetites told them it was time for something more substantial and they would head down to the breakfast buffet that Olympia made every Sunday for them and the entire staff. They would sit in the dining room leisurely eating and continuing whatever conversation they had started in the bedroom.

_Except today is different, _Alan groused to himself. _Denny wouldn't let me go downstairs at all. I mean it was sweet that he brought me a plate full of food, but I probably would have been able to eat more if I had been able to get it myself. This really sucks._

The bedroom door opened and Denny returned looking bright and chipper. He was carrying a fresh carafe of coffee and mugs which he set down on the dresser. "That's for after," he announced as he marched into the bathroom.

Confused, Alan repeated, "After? After _what?_" He could hear water running and thought Denny was getting ready to take a bath. He was stupefied to see Denny emerge with the basin Mrs. McDougal used to bathe him. It was full of soapy water and the older man was moving very deliberately to prevent the sloshing water from going over the side onto the carpet. "Denny, what's going on? Is Mrs. McDougal here?"

"Of course not. Good Catholic woman that she is, she probably sits in Mass all damn day. I'm giving you a bath. Denny Crane!"

Alan instinctively grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to cover his chest. "What?" he gasped. "You can't mean it!"

"Of course I do. You didn't get bathed yesterday and I doing it today. That's all." He placed the basin on Alan's night table and sat next to him. "Take off your nightshirt."

Alan thought about arguing, but he already knew this was a fight he would lose. "Fine," he grumbled before pulling his shirt up and over his head. He was now lying nude under the covers. "Do what you will with me," he said as he placed his eyes firmly on a spot on the ceiling.

Denny stuck the washcloth underwater and then squeezed out the excess. "Look at me." When the younger man complied, Denny began to wash him and said, "I saw this once on 'Mash.' Major Houlihan was sponge bathing a really shy soldier and she said the trick is to maintain eye contact and talk about anything." Swiftly, he ran the cloth up and down Alan's legs, washed his privates and chest. "So anyway," he continued as he took a soft hand towel and dried Alan off before pulling the sheet up to cover him, "I figured that's the way to approach taking care of you." He washed both arms and then dried them. He pushed on Alan's shoulder until he turned on his side and Denny washed his backside. He dried him off, went to the dresser, extracted a clean nightshirt and tossed it to his husband. He then poured a cup of coffee and handed it to the younger man after he had put on the garment. "Here you go! All clean with dignity intact."

Alan took the cup while staring at the man now sitting at the foot of the bed. "Thank you, Denny," he mumbled before moving his eyes to his coffee and concentrating on drinking it.

"You're welcome!" Denny replied. Patting Alan's leg, he said, "It's almost twelve – thirty. I'm going out for a few hours and then I'll have dinner with you and then hang out downstairs until bedtime. Okay?"

"Sure. What are you going to do? Go to a movie?"

"Yeah. I'm going to see that new Angelina Jolie flick. I'm going by myself so you don't have to be jealous," he teased as he stood to leave. "I'll see you later."

"Bye, Denny." He watched as Denny left the room. _I don't deserve him, _he thought as he hunkered down for another nap.

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Monday, Alan watched as Denny went into the bathroom, showered and dressed. "What time are you leaving?"

Denny emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. "I'm leaving around twelve – fifteen. How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm suffering from cabin fever. Are you _ever_ going to let me out of this bed?"

"Of course. Just not today. In fact, I have a surprise for you. Shirley wants to visit you today; is that okay?"

"Really? When?"

"She wants to keep you company while I'm at my appointment, so can I tell her one?"

Alan thought a moment. "Oh, she's off today? No, tell her to come at twelve – thirty for lunch."

Denny smiled. "Perfect! Olympia is making lobster salad; she can make lobster rolls for you guys." He checked his watch. "It's nine. I'll text her right now. She has a lot to discuss with you, she said." He sent the text and then called Rodeo to have his wife prepare breakfast. "Yes, coffee for two, French toast, bacon, orange juice for me and Alan will have…" Alan gave a "thumbs up" sign and he continued, "Alan will have the same. Yes, three pieces for me, two pieces for him." He hung up. "I assumed your appetite is still not quite up to snuff. Am I right?"

Alan nodded. "If there is anything positive to be said for having mono, it's that my lack of appetite has helped me lose five pounds without even trying. Maybe I won't have to go to Flor Del this year."*

"Speak for yourself, I need a tune up." Fifteen minutes later, Rodeo knocked on the door with their breakfast. Denny's was set up at the table while Alan's was placed on a roller table that slid in front of him. "Thank you, Rodeo. That will be all." He ate his food and watched as Alan tucked into his breakfast as best he could. He was pleased that the younger man managed to eat most of it before giving up. "You're getting your appetite back, I see."

"I'm trying, Denny."

Denny's phone chirped and when he checked it, he saw it was an answer from Shirley. "She says she'll be here for lunch and is looking forward to the lobster roll. I'll see you later. Get some rest."

"Bye, Denny."

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A few hours later, Shirley arrived at the Crane home and was escorted to the master bedroom. She walked over to Alan and bent down to kiss him hello, deftly avoiding his lips and planting a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"Shirley, you are no fun," he pouted good-naturedly as she pulled a chair closer to the bed. "Denny tells me you have things to tell and discuss with me. Do you want to eat first or talk first?"

"Maybe we better eat first."

"Wow, sounds serious. All righty then," Alan said as he grabbed the intercom to call Rodeo.

Awhile later, the sandwiches were eaten; all of Shirley's and most of Alan's. He pushed his plate away and when he was satisfied that Shirley was also finished, he had Rodeo come in to remove the trays and bring a bottle of pinot grigio for her to drink. When Rodeo had exited the room, Alan asked her, "Now what is it you wanted to talk about?"

Shirley told Alan about her resignation from Chang, Poole and Schmidt, her plans to remove her name from that firm and open a new firm along with Jerry and Katie and Carl's resentment at feeling excluded from her thought processes. "He actually told me he envies Denny's and your relationship because Denny is your only priority and everyone knows it. You would never do anything to disappoint him."

Alan hung his head. "I wish that were true. You don't know what transpired on New Year's Eve, Shirley." He rubbed a hand across his forehead. "I've told you that we encountered some college coeds ringing in the New Year in Vegas. What I haven't told you, or _anyone, _is that one of the girls showed more than a passing interest in me." Shirley was astonished to see the beginnings of a blush appear on his face. "She asked me to accompany her to her room so she could change her shoes. Denny and the other two girls were in one of the bars, so I figured it would be okay to leave them for a few minutes. As soon as I closed the door to her room, she was on me. She was young and pretty and…I allowed myself to get carried away."

Shirley gasped, "You didn't…"

"No, but it was damn close. I think she was the one who infected me with mono. We were kissing deeply and I think if she hadn't hurt me by grabbing my…grabbing _me _too tightly, I would have ended up cheating on my husband."

"Alan, since we're being open and honest, may I ask a question?"

"Sure."

"Do you and Denny…?" She shrugged her shoulders in a "You know" kind of way.

"Have sex? No, we don't, but my wedding vows mean everything to me. I feel so guilty and ashamed about that night. We were all so drunk, I don't think Denny even remembers that I was gone for awhile. And he has been _so_ good to me, Shirley. I couldn't ask for a better spouse. He doesn't deserve a cheater for a mate."

"He loves you, Alan," she said as she reached to rub his arm. "I really don't think anything could change that."

"I love _him_," Alan replied. "But I've been keeping this secret ever since New Year's. I'm a hypocrite. I'm demanding total honesty from him and not being honest at the same time." He shook himself as if to shake off what he was feeling. "We're supposed to be talking about you and Carl. I understand he's feeling taken for granted and somewhat powerless in the marriage. Might I suggest a compromise?"

Shirley put her glass down and leaned closer. "I would _love _for you to suggest a compromise. I haven't been able to think of anything."

"Okay. If I were you, I would go to Carl and say, 'It's late March now. How about I propose to Jerry and Katie that I will help set up the new practice, but come July 1st, I'm out of there until at least September so that I can spend a raunchy, tawdry…'"

"Alan!"

"Oh, all right! 'A chaste and virginal two months long honeymoon with you.' What do you think Carl would say to that?"

"A two months long honeymoon," Shirley repeated, "That's your suggestion? Tons of sex?"

He brushed imaginary crumbs from the front of his nightshirt. "Think about it, Shirley. You and Carl really didn't _have _a honeymoon. We got back from Nimmo Bay and you two went right back to work while Denny was fired and I quit.* He's feeling like he is the low man on your totem pole of priorities. What better way is there to show he's important to you than to just be _with _him for the entire summer? And one more thing: When the summer is over, tell him you're only going to work part-time. And then, do it."

Her eyes widened. "You expect me to…not work all summer and then resume work _part-time?_"

Alan turned his dead fish eye stare on her and deadpanned, "I don't expect you to do _anything, _but Carl does. Work will always be there, clients will always be there; if not the ones you currently have, new ones. Carl may not always be there. Would it be okay with you if you woke up one day and he was gone? _My _husband is twenty – nine years older than I am. I'm fifty – four. Do the math. _Every _day with him is a gift."

"When you put it that way, Alan, it's obvious why you're not working now. I'm so used to working, I guess I have to take the chain off my own brain and accept there is another way." Shirley checked her watch. "Oh my goodness, it's after two already! I better go. Denny should be home soon." She stood up and grabbed her purse. Impulsively, she leaned in and gave Alan a quick kiss on the lips. "Thank you for listening to me. You've given me a lot to think about. May I return the favor?" When Alan nodded she said, "Tell Denny what you told me about New Year's Eve. I believe that Denny will forgive you. He loves you."

"I know."

*ref. "Living Healthy"


	4. Chapter 4

While Alan and Shirley were having their visit, Denny had kept his appointment with the therapist. His office was downtown not too far from Chang, Poole and Schmidt, in fact. When Dave the chauffeur dropped him off, he had instructed him to come back in an hour and fifteen minutes. He took the elevator to the fifteenth floor and stepped through the door with Dr. Sherman Raftenburg's name on it. A receptionist sat behind her desk and smiled a welcoming smile surely patented to put the nervous at ease.

"Good afternoon; do you have an appointment?"

"Yes. Denny Crane."

"Yes, I have it here. Since this is your first time here, I need you to fill out some paperwork and I'll need to see your insurance card."

"I don't have insurance; I'm rich or you don't know that?"

"Dr. Raftenburg charges $250 an hour," she replied haughtily.

"And?"

She faltered under the withering gaze of the older man in front of her and said meekly, "And…I want you to know."

Denny reached into his wallet, withdrew $250 from it and tossed it upon her desk. "If I come back, I'll pay by check and fill out the paperwork."

Just then the inner office door opened and a middle – aged man emerged wearing a beard and glasses. "Mr. Crane? I'm Dr. Raftenburg. I hope you haven't been waiting long." He extended his hand.

Denny shook the proffered hand and shook it. "I was just getting acquainted with your secretary. I think we understand each other now." The doctor gestured for him to come into his office and Denny followed.

Once they were both seated, the doctor asked, "So what brings you here today?"

"My husband. He insists that I speak to someone about my fear of losing him."

The doctor was writing notes furiously into his notepad. "So, you're gay."

Denny puffed up in indignation. "No, I am _not _gay and neither is my husband!"

The doctor's forehead creased and he looked confused. "I'm sorry, you say you're not gay? You're married to a man, but…you're not gay."

"That's right. I married my best friend so that he can look after me when my Alzheimer's kicks in; I don't trust anyone else to do it."

Scribbling furiously on his pad Raftenburg opined, "So this is a marriage of convenience. You have separate bedrooms, I assume?"

"No, we share a bed."

"Then, you _do_ have sex with each other!"

Denny huffed in exasperation. "Didn't I just tell you we are not gay? No, we don't have sex!" He waved his hand in dismissal. "This is getting us nowhere. I'm here because my husband has mononucleosis and the idea of him being sick…It just upsets me. Badly."

"Why? Mono isn't a life – threatening ailment though it can be debilitating. May I ask: How old is your husband?"

"Alan's fifty - four to my eighty - three."

"I see," Dr. Raftenburg said as he wrote a bit more. "So, barring unforeseen circumstances, he should be there for the rest of your life."

"Yes, exactly."

"But when he became ill, you realized that things might not go according to plan. Is that right?"

"Yes, and that…scared me. This was the first time he was really laid low by an illness and it made me start to think: What if he got deathly sick? Or hurt? In that case, I would see that he's taken care of course, but what if he died? What about _me?_ He's my only family. What would happen to me? I'd be all alone. That's not the way things are supposed to be. _I'm _supposed to be the one who goes first. _That's _what's supposed to happen!"

"I see." More notes being written. "Mr. Crane, I can't promise that your husband will outlive you. What I _can _promise you is that if you do not make an effort to enjoy today and every day with him, you will make yourself miserable worrying about a future that may not happen. Now, I can ask you to come back to see me once a week for many weeks to come so I can tell you the same thing over and over or you can take that piece of advice I just gave you and spend your time enjoying yourself with Alan. Which would you prefer?"

Denny stared at the man hard for a few moments. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders and looked down. "I would prefer spending time with Alan. I love him; he's my best friend, best one I ever had. I don't understand. What you just said is plain common sense, but why does it sound so profound coming from you?"

The younger man smiled. "It's a gift." He checked his watch. "Our time is over, Mr. Crane. Will I be seeing you next week?"

Denny stood and extended his hand. "I don't think so. Thank you for listening to me. You've been helpful and if I need to hear your advice again, I will call you."

The two men shook hands. "Take care, Mr. Crane."

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Denny arrived back home around four – thirty. Rodeo met him at the door and took his coat. "Is Shirley still here?" he asked as he walked farther into the house.

"No, Denny, she left almost two hours ago. Alan was watching television for awhile, but the last time I checked on him, he had dozed off. That was just about a half – hour ago. Will you be joining him?"

"Not yet. Could you bring me some scotch and a cigar to the den, please? I'm going to be in there for a bit."

Denny sat in his recliner as he sipped his drink and smoked his cigar. He was thinking about his conversation with Dr. Raftenburg and his feelings about Alan's well – being. _Something occurred to me while I was in the shrink's office. When that nutcase was holding Alan hostage in the office with a gun to his head, I wasn't scared. I was _concerned _of course, but I wasn't scared. I shot that sonuvabitch for threatening Alan's life. I was in complete control that day. _He fingered his glass and puffed on his cigar. _I think that's it! I was in control of the situation and I knew it. Alan was in danger and I took care of it. But this, this is different. I can handle a bad guy, but not an illness or an injury. It's not just about him taking care of me, it's about me taking care of him. I don't want to fail him. Ever. _He checked his watch and was shocked to see how much time had passed. He called Rodeo on the intercom. "Could you have Olympia make a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches with a carafe of milk and bring it up to my bedroom in about twenty minutes? Thanks."

He drained his glass and lifted his bulk out of the chair. He headed up the stairs and into his bedroom where Alan was apparently asleep with the television playing softly in the background. It was almost seven – thirty so he decided to undress and get into bed. Fifteen minutes later there was a soft knock on the door and then Rodeo entered with the requested sandwiches and milk.

Alan roused himself just then. "Denny? Hi," he said happily as he sat up. "Oh, how did you know I was thinking about ham and cheese? Terrific!" he enthused as he grabbed a sandwich and began to eat it. "I'm starved!"

"That's great, Alan! Your appetite is back!"

Alan took another bite and after chewing and swallowing he said, "You're right." He polished off his sandwich and actually took a couple of bites of Denny's. "This is so good," he opined.

After they ate their dinner, the two men laid in bed and watched television together for a couple of hours. Alan was very curious about Denny's visit to Dr. Raftenburg, but he figured the older man would tell him about it when he was ready. They watched the early news at ten and when it went off, Denny turned off the TV and the lights and settled in for the night with Alan at his side.

"Talking to Dr. Raftenburg I realized something today, Alan. I thought that you would take care of me and, eventually, my money would take care of you. I forgot that our wedding vows are a two – way street. When you got sick, I freaked out because I had forgotten that sometimes, I need to care for you and your needs. I was being selfish and I apologize."

"For what, Denny? Being scared? No need. But speaking of apologies, I owe you a big one. I have something to confess."

"_Confess? _What are you talking about?"

Alan moved away from Denny's side, turned his lamp on and then sat up to lean against the headboard. He clasped his hands together and looked down at them. "I allowed myself…to be carried away New Year's Eve with one of the coeds we were partying with that night. I think she's who infected me with mono."

Denny snorted, "Oh, the one you accompanied to her room? You banged her, right?"

"No, I didn't! You remember I left with her?"

"I do and I assumed you had sex with her. I was happy for you. I knew I wasn't going to do anything with the two women you left me with."

Alan moved closer to Denny and took his hand. "Maybe I'm insane, Denny, but I've been feeling horribly guilty because I almost cheated on you. And I know," he said as he held up a hand in response to the look on Denny's face, "I know we don't have sex, but like you've told me on several occasions, this may be a sexless marriage, but it's not a _loveless_ one. Trust me, I will not put myself in that position again. I'm sorry."

"There's no reason to feel sorry. Like I said, I thought you did have sex with her and that was fine with me. I want you to be happy."

Alan leaned over to turn out the light and then slid closer to Denny and put his head on his chest. "I _am _happy. Or at least I will be when I can _get out of this bed!"_

He felt his hair get ruffled and the rumble of his husband's chest when he chuckled. "You can get out it this weekend if you're feeling better. I promise." Alan felt Denny's arms tighten around him. "I realized something else today."

Alan was feeling very comfortable in Denny's arms and was beginning to fall back asleep, but perked up when Denny spoke. "What did you realize?"

"That I can't promise to love you for the rest of your life, but I _can _promise to love you for the rest of _mine_. And that is the God's honest truth."

Alan hugged Denny hard and whispered, "I know it is. I love you, too. And everytime I think I've hit the depths of that love, you say something that makes me love you even more. G'night, Denny."

"Sweet dreams, kid."

BLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBL 

Later on that night, Shirley and Carl were lying in bed watching the eleven o'clock news. Carl turned off the set when the news went off and leaned over to kiss her. "G'night," he said as he rolled over to go to sleep.

"Carl?"

"Hmmm?"

"What would you say if I took off all summer to spend it traveling with you?"

He rolled back over to face her. It was dark enough that it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. "Do you mean it?"

Her eyes searched his. "I do mean it. In fact, I'm thinking I might just let Katie and Jerry be the lead partners and work part time."

Carl was astonished. "That would be so awesome! What made you decide to take off the summer and consider part time work?"

"Not what. Who. I went to visit Alan today and he opened my eyes to some truths, with the biggest truth being that I love you, Carl. _You _are the most important person in my world and he showed me that I need to act like it." She moved closer and put her arms around him. "Carl, I am truly sorry. I _did _treat you shabbily and I promise I will try harder not to do that in the future."

Carl kissed the tip of her nose. "I see you're not promising never to do it."

"Baby steps, Carl. Baby steps."

"Come here, baby," he whispered as he pulled her into an embrace and kissed her. He poured all of his love into his kiss and she responded in kind. There was no more conversation the rest of the night.


End file.
